The Wrong Thing
by MillyBeaux
Summary: Sequel to The Right Thing. An innocent coffee date turns into confessions and realizations.


Harry Potter was moping around the office, avoiding responsibility. Ever since the incident he had been chained to a desk, in a figurative sort of way, writing reports and responding to letters. He absolutely hated it. He missed the street beat, the investigations, and the eventual arrests. He even missed sitting through court proceedings.

Coming back to work after the holidays was always hard, but this time, it was sheer torture. He kept replaying the short amount of time spent with Draco Malfoy over and over again in his mind's eye, sometimes simply enjoying it, other times searching for a deeper meaning he wasn't sure he would ever find, even if it were there. He sighed and laced Draco's scarf around his neck. He never did return it. He was afraid that if he did, this spell that Malfoy had over him would be broken. He was afraid that if they saw each other again, it wouldn't be the same.

Maybe going out for tea would feel better than sitting here.

He sighed and pushed himself to his feet. The skeleton crew that manned the office on this New Years' holiday looked much the same as Harry felt; tired. He turned a corner and ran into something solid, yet warm. He stepped back, catching his balance, a flutter of many sheets of parchment raining down around him. Harry suddenly realized what that meant.

"I'm so sorry, that was completely my fault," he muttered. He pushed up his glasses as he dropped to his knees and started collecting the papers.

"You're right, Potter, that was your fault."

Harry looked up to find Draco Malfoy smirking down at him.

"Malfoy!" Harry felt surprised and excited and had trouble controlling the volume of his voice. "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I was about to turn in these reports to your superior," he sniffed, but his smirk was a good-natured one, Harry was pretty sure.

"Yeah, um, let me help you," Harry said, hoping his face wasn't as red as it felt.

"Potter," Malfoy said, his voice low.

"Hm?"

"Is that my muffler?" Draco had a weird grin on his pointed face. He looked different somehow, since the last time he had seen him but he couldn't quite place it.

"Oh, um, yes," Harry muttered, concentrating on picking up the papers. "It is." Harry was sure his face was as red as it felt.

"And you're wearing it around the office? Are you cold?"

Harry had to laugh at himself. "Not exactly, no."

The only sounds for a moment was the shuffling of parchment. Harry glanced up, trying to figure out what was different about the man that had occupied so much of his thoughts as of late. More often than not, however, he was met with Malfoy's cool steely stare accompanied by that unreadable smirk.

They both straightened up and Harry dumped his haphazard pile onto Malfoy's neat one. The smirk was replaced with a slight scowl, then a grin.

"Would you like to have a coffee with me, Harry?"

"Right now?"

Harry liked the chuckle that followed his dumb question. "Right after I turn in my carefully prepared report."

Harry laughed and nodded. He watched as Malfoy walked away, towards his boss' office. It wasn't unusual for witches or wizards from different departments to produce reports on evidence and such for his superior. He had to wonder though, what sort of evidence Malfoy would need to report on.

He idly played with his wedding ring, as he was prone to do these past couple of weeks. Draco Malfoy reappeared, and the full force of his appearance hit Harry like a brick wall. He was wearing a sharp three piece suit, black and charcoal, hands in his pockets, strolling as if he hadn't a care in the world. Harry made a split second decision, took off his ring, and tucked it into his front pocket.

"Ready, Potter?"

"Ready," Harry nodded, as if it might make it true.

Harry let Malfoy lead him down the busy London street. He hardly went out during business hours and when he did, it certainly wasn't for coffee. Was it a euphemism? Where was he leading him? He had to fight down a small wave of panic. This is what he wanted, wasn't it? Harry turned his coat collar up against the chilly wind and hoped he could make up his mind.

Malfoy stopped and opened a small shop door for him. It looked too small to be anything, really, not even signed as far as Harry could tell.

"What is this place, Malfoy?"

"Just go in, Potter. It's freezing out." Harry wondered if the smirk would ever leave his face.

Harry went in, feeling Malfoy's comforting yet anxiety-inducing presence behind him. There were small tables dispersed throughout the small cafe, very few people at them at all. A roaring fireplace sat in the corner, a tired looking sofa in front of it, making Harry want to immediately shed his outer layer. He watched as the witch behind the counter (he was certain this was a magical establishment, now that he looked around) as she balanced what looked like a three foot tall foam tower on top of a tiny coffee cup.

"We don't have to get one of those, do we?" Harry muttered.

Draco only laughed. "Sometimes, Potter, I don't think you've changed at all."

"You hardly knew me."

"All the same. Your reverence for magic hasn't changed one bit. A muggleborn through and through."

"And maybe you're still a stuck up pureblood," Harry replied with a grin.

Draco smirked. "Maybe. Grab us a seat and I'll get you a drink."

Harry chose a seat at a small wooden table with two mismatched chairs near the fireplace. He took of his coat, laying it over the back of his seat near the wall. He sat down and watched as Draco negotiated drinks and tender over the counter with the young witch there. She was staring at Malfoy in a way that made Harry feel uncomfortable. Draco said something to her and she laughed too loudly, touched his arm. Harry scoffed, whether at her or at himself, he wasn't entirely sure.

Draco returned with two steaming mugs and Harry suddenly wished it were whiskey, like it was before, instead of coffee.

"Alright, Harry?"

"What? Of course, why?"

"You look a little," he smirked. "Uncomfortable."

"Do you know her?" Harry inclined his head towards the barista.

Malfoy let out a small chuckle. "Sort of. I come here fairly often." Draco was taking off his coat and taking his seat across from Harry. He ran a hand through his hair. "Didn't peg you for the jealous type, Potter."

Harry ignored his burning face and looked into his coffee cup. He suddenly looked up, snapping his fingers. "That's what it is. You cut your hair."

"Now you're just changing the subject," Draco muttered as he sipped his coffee.

"I am not. I knew there was something different about you."

"Different good or different bad?" He stared at Harry with that penetrating stare.

Harry squirmed in his seat. This wasn't going as smoothly as he had hoped. Malfoy's hair was indeed shorter; it swept across his forehead and curled out a tiny bit behind his ears. "Good, you look good," Harry's voice came out of his tight throat barely a whisper. He thought he saw Draco's smirk widen into a real smile, but it could've been the low lighting. He cleared his throat. "Did you have a good Christmas, then?"

Malfoy shrugged, leaning back in his chair. "Good enough, I suppose. Some family came to call. I had to ask them to leave. I spent some time at St. Mungo's with my mother." There seemed to be something more he wanted to say; his eyes held a certain spark.

"Is she alright? Your mum?" Harry sipped his coffee. It was strong, much stronger than he was used to.

Draco continued as if he hadn't spoken. "I had hoped, for a time, that you would come to call."

Harry snorted into his coffee. It was all he had thought about that Christmas; how to get away to go and see Draco.

"Is it that funny?" Malfoy asked, his voice soft, his smirk gone.

"No, no, it's just that," Harry paused, scrubbed a hand through his hair. He laughed then, at the absurdity of it. He could just admit it, couldn't he? "I thought about it all day, to be honest. And after that. Still do."

"So why didn't you? Couldn't bring yourself to part with my muffler?"

"It is quite soft, you know."

"I do know, Potter. It's mine."

"I wasn't able to get away," he answered the question finally.

"And now?"

"I'm already away."

Draco regarded him with a cool stare. Harry looked away, towards the attractive barista, the wizard in the corner trying to sip his coffee from under the mountain of foam, anywhere but Draco's silvery eyes. "Is everything alright, Harry?"

"Yes, of course it is," he knew he answered too quickly for it to seem true.

Malfoy continued his discerning stare. "I couldn't help but notice, you're not wearing your ring, Harry," he said, his voice low.

Harry ignored the pulsing feeling happening below his belt at Malfoy's tone and gaze. He shifted in his seat and leaned forward, putting his elbows on the table. "We had a fight, Gin and me."

Draco leaned forward as well, wrapping his long fingers around his cup. "I'm sorry, Harry. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Yes. No." Harry sighed. "Maybe."

Draco let out a low chuckle. "It wasn't because of me, was it?"

Harry regarded Malfoy; his open face, his short hair sweeping across his forehead, the minor creases at the corners of his playful eyes. What should he say? That their fight that Christmas morning was only about Draco Malfoy? That he slept on the couch after Draco had gone, curled up with his muffler? It sounded a bit pathetic, even to himself.

"It was a lot of things. It was a long time coming."

"You broke up with your wife? On Christmas?"

Harry winced. It sounded awful, the way Malfoy said it. "Separated," he corrected glumly. It was Ginny's term. The word "divorce" hadn't crossed either one of their lips, but separated was as good as done, wasn't it?

Malfoy's long-fingered hand was suddenly on his own, a warm and comforting touch. "I am sorry, Harry."

"I don't think I am, though," Harry whispered.

Draco leaned forward a bit more. "No?" he said, his voice soft.

"I think I feel a bit better, actually." Ginny had blamed him for, well, everything. Mostly not trying hard enough to get her pregnant. She had tried being intimate with him that evening, but Harry hadn't been into it. He said he had too much to drink, and, after multiple denied advances, she said he was in love with a man. His face burned with the memory of it. He gulped his coffee, suddenly uncomfortable.

Malfoy gave his hand a light squeeze and let go. Harry missed it almost immediately.

The bell to the cafe door jingled, admitting a rather heavy set man, of an age with the two of them, probably. Harry thought he looked familiar, but couldn't place him.

The truth was, in the week following Christmas, he slowly started to feel more like himself. It was a wonder to him how easy it was to be alone. He had thought, before, that being alone would be worse than being with her. That his demons might suddenly take him over at any moment and he'd end up sleeping in a closet, like he did when things got bad. It hadn't come to that and he felt grateful.

"One more?" Draco asked, his handsome face all smirk.

Harry nodded. He didn't usually drink coffee, but he knew he wanted to stay. He wasn't sure how he would go back to the office after this. His head swam with thoughts of unfinished tasks at work, thoughts of what his friends were saying about him, thoughts of Draco Malfoy's intentions.

He glanced up to see what was taking so long, and saw Malfoy exchanging words with the heavyset man. He watched Draco's face pull down in a scowl as the other man pulled back a fist. It landed squarely in Malfoy's nose. Harry's body reacted on instinct. He was on his feet, vaulting over the table, wand in his hand. The attractive barista was shouting but Harry ignored her. He grabbed the heavyset man by the collar hauling him away from Malfoy.

"Harry Potter?" The man's voice was a strangled surprise. Now that he was closer he could tell who this man was.

"Goyle?"

Goyle broke out of his grip, adjusting his jacket angrily. "Now you have _him_ fighting your battles for you? You bleeding turncoat. Traitor!" It was directed over Harry's head, at Draco. The bell jingled again at Goyle's hurried exit. Harry stared after him not quite believing what had just happened.

Draco was muttering apologies to the barista while she held a rag to his face to staunch the bleeding. Draco's eyes met Harry's confused ones and he waved her off. She retired dutifully behind the counter, concern etching her features. Harry suddenly wished they were alone.

Malfoy pulled out his wand, muttered a spell, and touched it to his own nose. Harry winced as the blood disappeared and Malfoy's nose made a slight cracking sound as it righted itself. He sighed and touched it gingerly.

"You alright? I can still arrest him. I would chase him down in full view of muggles."

Malfoy let out a wry laugh. "I don't doubt that you would, Harry. It's fine, it happens."

"What do you mean it happens? It isn't still about the war, is it?"

Harry offered his hand. Malfoy gave it a cursory glance, as if he had to think about it before taking it. Harry felt his heart skip a beat. He almost took the gesture back when he felt Draco's cool fingers wrap around his hand. Harry let out a breath he'd been holding and pulled the other man to his feet.

Draco gave him a sad smile and retrieved their mugs, heading back towards their table. He sat down with a heavy sigh. "Still? Of course it is. Ten years isn't a very long time for most, Harry."

Harry screwed up his face. "I don't understand."

Malfoy leaned forward. There were still faint dark circles under his eyes, near his nose from the assault. His face was more serious than Harry had seen in recent times. "You, you're hailed as a hero." Harry opened his mouth to protest. "As well as you should be," Draco added quickly. "But someone like me, there's no place for me in history. There's no place for me on either side."

"You did brave things, Malfoy."

A wry smirk. "I did awful things, Potter. I did awful things for horrible reasons. They say I could've won the war, had I not helped you instead. The other side, your side, they say I was the reason things got as bad as they did."

"But, in the end-"

"It's fine, Harry. People are entitled to their opinions." He fixed his silver gaze out the front window.

"Not when their opinions include breaking your nose. It's wrong."

Draco's regular smirk graced his face. "It's fine. It's not lost on me, Harry, that your testimony kept me out of Azkaban. I wanted to-," he paused, looking away again.

"Don't mention it," Harry muttered, his chest feeling tight. It was a long time ago, but he remembered it well. He went against a lot of people who told him Draco Malfoy deserved to burn for his crimes. Harry simply never saw it that way. They were just kids. Kids doing what they thought they had to do during an insane time. Kids fighting in a war they didn't completely understand.

"You think I was going to thank you?" Malfoy's drawling voice cut through his thoughts.

Harry felt his cheeks blaze. "It's usually how this sort of thing goes," Harry said weakly.

Malfoy's hand was on his again. "I was. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Harry glanced down at their hands and back up to Malfoy's silver eyes.

"I can see, however, it's too late for that." Draco pulled his hand back.

"No," Harry said, maybe too quickly, as he turned his hand and grabbed Draco's. The other man's eyes widened along with his smile. A genuine smile. "I mean, that's not why I'm uncomfortable."

"Then what are you saying?" Malfoy's voice was low again.

Harry ran his other hand through his hair and sighed. What was he saying? "I'm not sure."

"Then maybe we can just take it slow."

Harry smiled, relief flooding him. "Besides," Harry said with a slow smile. "I almost killed you that one time in the bathroom, so maybe we're even."

The color drained from Malfoy's face.

Fuck.

He was ruining it.

Maybe Ginny was right about him, after all.

"Malfoy, I didn't know what the curse did. I was quite angry during that time, and I'm-"

"Don't worry about it, Potter." Draco pulled his hand away. Harry let it go this time. His tone was different; cold, like it was during their days at school.

"I meant it lightly, Draco, I mean, I feel very different about you now and I don't want-" Harry realized his mouth had run away with him. He shut it with a snap. Maybe he could blame it on all the caffeine he just ingested.

"And how do you feel about me, now?" Malfoy's voice was quiet.

Harry squirmed under Draco's gaze. "I feel like we should've gone out for proper drinks," he blurted.

Malfoy smirked, but his eyes looked sad. "If we're friends, Potter, like you said, and I mean only friends, that's fine. I will be your friend. Merlin knows I don't have many. But I can't help but feel like there's something more here, from you."

Harry could only nod, not trusting his mouth to say the right thing.

Draco leaned forward, dropping his voice into low tones again. "I know the timing isn't ideal, but if I'm wrong, or if you plan on working things out with your wife, I'd really like for you to tell me."

Harry nodded again, sipping his coffee to buy himself time to think. He hadn't expected Draco to be so forthright about things. At least, not so soon.

"You're not wrong," Harry said slowly. "And I don't want to work things out with my wife." It was hard to say, but he felt better, putting his feelings into words.

Malfoy was staring at him with that icy gaze, too heavy with enigmatic meaning.

"But," Harry continued, "I honestly don't know what I can offer you right now, Draco. My marriage is ending, my friends hate me, my career is hitting a wall, and," he paused to laugh. Here he was again, baring it all to Draco Malfoy, except he wasn't even drunk this time. "I'm living out of The Leaky Cauldron for Merlin's sake."

"You've been staying at an inn since Christmas? Didn't she give you time to pack?" Draco's handsome features curled down into a scowl.

"It's okay, they know me there." Harry ran a finger along the rim of his mug. "And she did. She stayed at her parents' but I had to leave. I suddenly couldn't stand anything about it anymore."

He didn't look up, but he could feel Draco's eyes on him, waiting for him to say more, probably. "I have no idea what I'm doing," he said into his coffee. It felt better, finally admitting that, too, but whether Draco knew entirely what that admission covered, he couldn't be sure.

"You're not saying anything," Harry muttered into his empty mug.

"I didn't know if you were addressing me or your coffee." Harry looked up and wished he hadn't. That damn smirk. It made his throat feel tight. "I'm not asking you for anything, Harry. Only your honesty, which, true to form, you have delivered impeccably."

Harry scowled across the table. "Are you insulting me?"

"Only a little."

"You can't do that."

"Sure I can, Potter. In fact," he gestured at Harry with a long finger, "I formally reserve the right to insult you any time I please."

Harry scoffed. "You can't do that."

"Too bad, I just did." Draco smirked and laced his hands behind head, leaning back in his chair.

"Draco?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"What were your reports about? At work."

Draco's arms came down along with his smirk. "You know I can't disclose that to you, Harry. Even if it were your case, I wouldn't be able to."

"But I already saw them."

"So you did. But you didn't read them."

Harry shuffled his feet underneath his chair. "How do you know?"

"Because if you did, you wouldn't be asking."

"It's not like I can read your handwriting, anyway."

It was Draco's turn to scoff. "My handwriting is very nice, Potter. Unlike yours."

Harry tilted his head at his..what? Companion? Friend? "That's the second time you've mentioned reading my reports at work. Why are you reading them?"

Malfoy cleared his throat and sat up straight in his chair. "Speaking of work, about time to head back, isn't it?"

"Not quite," Harry replied, a casual note of defiance slipping into his speech. "It's fairly rare for someone in your position to read an auror's case reports. Especially one who is being penalized until further notice. Certainly not just to fix my grammar."

Draco looked uncomfortable, nervous. His eyes darted around the cafe as if searching for the answer there. "Alright, Potter," he sighed. "We're starting this..relationship, are we?"

Harry squirmed again. "We haven't said in so many words, but-"

"But," Draco leaned in close. "I feel it, and I think it's safe to say that you do as well, yes?"

Harry licked his lips and nodded, wondering what this had to do with his case reports.

"Yes," Draco repeated, folding his long fingers together on the tabletop. "It would be a pity to start things out with a lie, wouldn't it?"

"Then don't lie."

"It's much easier, sometimes, to do the wrong thing, Potter, do you know that?"

Harry bit his lip and narrowed his eyes, as if that would help him see through Malfoy. Not the Draco Malfoy he used to know, but this new, funny, attractive, and terribly smart person in front of him. "I've never been much for the easy way, I'm afraid," Harry said slowly.

Malfoy smirked at him, his pale eyes shining, as if with a joke Harry didn't get. "Of course not. I, unfortunately, often was. I'm trying to do better, though, I really am."

"I'm glad, Malfoy, but how do my reports figure in to this?"

He laughed then, more of a nervous cackle. "I wanted to be friends with you, Potter. I thought if I could get you reinstated to ground work you'd be.." Draco trailed off, seeming to look for a word. "'Grateful' sounds a bit wrong, doesn't it? I really didn't mean it like that. I meant more like happy. Then you kept finding me in the halls and atrium and then you invited me to Christmas Eve and there it was: my opening."

"Your opening?"

"To get to know you."

"You've been reading my reports of my incident to try and get me reinstated?"

"Yes."

"So that we could be friends?"

"That's the gist of it, yes."

"Then where does the wrong thing come into play?"

Harry watched Malfoy spin his ring around a finger. It was emblazoned with an overlarge letter M. "Using my position to access your reports was the wrong thing. If my superiors found out, I would be-"

"You were going to get yourself sacked just to be my friend?" It was unbelievable. Ludicrous even.

"I know, it's insane, it really is. Maybe Granger will have my job after all."

Harry felt like he was waiting for the punchline.

"I felt something, Harry. With you. I thought it was only an understanding, the kind that comes through a certain kind of trauma, but now I see that it's more. It's so much more."

Harry went to take a drink from his mug, forgetting it was empty. He put it down harder than he meant to.

"If you're angry with me, if you've changed your mind, I understand completely."

Harry felt like he needed a moment to process. "So," Harry said slowly. "It was wrong to look at my reports, but you did, and it's wrong to tell me what's in yours, but you won't. What's the difference?"

Draco laughed. The nervous one again. "Shall we go for that proper drink, after all?"

"Malfoy."

He ran a hand through his short blond hair and wouldn't meet Harry's eyes. "One instance benefits me directly, that same instance has a lesser probability of me being caught. The other benefits you, and the more people that are involved, the more likely I am to to be caught."

Harry could only stare blankly.

Malfoy made an exaggerated shrug. "Slytherin, remember?"

"Oh, I remember. I knew you were cunning, Malfoy, but-"

"I am trying, Harry. I wanted to clear your name, so you wouldn't have to mope around the office anymore. But really," Malfoy lowered his voice, "I didn't think it could have happened the way everyone said it did. Not to you. I wanted to help you, like you helped me."

Harry pushed his glasses up his nose. Everyone had said the same thing, at first. That there must have been a mistake. The Minister of Magic himself had given Harry a second chance to recount his testimony. Harry knew what the second chance had meant- a complicit lie made by the head Auror to keep his own job in a struggling department. Everyone was so quick to look the other way, but Harry would have always known the truth. He wouldn't have been able to live with himself. Months later, he was still living through the fallout.

He looked toward the door, thinking how easy it would be to simply get up and leave. It would be easier than leaving Ginny, or so he told himself. But the fact that Draco was here, now, telling him these things to his face, what did that mean?

"And what did you find?"

"Please don't ask me that, Harry. I can't say."

Harry suddenly had a gut feeling. What people in his line of work often called a hunch. "It has to do with another case."

Malfoy pointed a finger in his direction. "I didn't say that."

"You wouldn't do all of that just to be my friend, would you? Not you."

"Harry," Malfoy's voice had a note of warning to it.

Harry slapped his hands on the table. "Are you investigating me, Malfoy?" His voice came out louder than he'd intended.

The ambient noise in the coffee shop seemed to stop suddenly. Malfoy loosened his tie and looked towards the door. Planning his own escape, maybe.

"Not exactly, Potter, no."

Harry leaned forward, lowered his voice. "If we're starting this relationship, Draco, I'd really like to be able to trust you."

"So please, Harry, trust me when I say that I can't say. I don't want things to get worse for you." Draco Malfoy sighed and ran a hand through his hair again.

Harry sat back and crossed his arms. He felt his anger start to rise. What an unbelievable-

"I was hired to do magical misuse cross-checking, Harry. It's a bloody miracle someone like me got a position like this. No wonder Granger was short with me. Voldemort may be dead but his supporters are still everywhere."

"I know that already, but if you're simply cross-checking, looking for things others may have missed, then why-"

"I was told specifically not to open your case."

Harry could only stare.

"And I did. It was not only wrong of me to go against my superiors, it was..personal." He smirked.

Harry couldn't find any words. Malfoy was looking into his probation, his incident, against orders. Getting close to getting himself sacked for what? Friendship? Something more than that? No matter Draco's intentions or Harry's feelings, he knew he had to bare it all. Now or never. No lies. And, he could hope, that Draco might meet his truth with another.

Harry let out a great sigh. "There's something I have to tell you."

The smirk dropped from the other man's handsome face. "What is it?"

"I put in a word for you, at the Ministry."

The playfulness was gone from Draco's silvery eyes. "You did what," he said, not so much a question.

Harry rubbed a hand through his hair. "I um, I knew you applied and I thought it would be good for you."

"Potter."

"You know, a good fit. Keep you out of trouble." He laughed nervously. He hadn't planned on ever telling him that. He hadn't planned on ever talking to him again, really.

"Why would you do that?" Draco's eyes were narrowed, as if he were looking for a trap.

"I, um. After your father, I-"

"You weren't responsible for that."

"All the same, I just-"

"Maybe I was wrong about this, Harry."

"About what? My probation?"

"No. This." He gestured between the two of them. Harry felt a weight sink into the pit of his stomach.

"Don't say that," he said quietly.

"I don't need your pity. Or your charity. I never have."

"It wasn't like that, really."

"Then what would you call it, Potter?" It was amazing to Harry, how quickly Malfoy slid into his old drawl. It was amazing also, how much it didn't change anything for him.

"As far as I can figure," Harry started slowly. "It's that I, too wanted to be closer to you. I saw you change. I saw a different person than the one I went to school with. I only wanted to do what I could to make sure that change would stick."

"Saint Potter," Malfoy murmured as he ran a long finger around the rim of his mug, down the handle, spun it around a little bit. Harry had to fight to keep his thoughts on the topic at hand. Draco seemed to be mulling it over, so Harry let him. He watched as the other man's brow furrowed and relaxed, as his jaw tightened and relaxed again. He had the sudden urge to reach out and touch his face.

"Would you like to stay with me, Harry?"

"Stay with you?" The question caught him off guard. "Here? Now?"

Malfoy let out a low chuckle. "I meant at the manor, with me. Until you get back on your feet."

Harry scowled. "I thought we were talking about charities and such."

Malfoy let out his too-loud barking laugh this time and Harry smiled. "So we were. But unlike you, Potter, Malfoys do not do nice things for others, charity or not."

"You're telling me I'm special, then."

"Very special." Malfoy was looking at him with those silver eyes again. Harry felt himself shrink back, his face heating up. Was it his imagination or was there something else in Draco's eyes? Something like.. hunger? He felt the sudden need to change the subject.

"So, uh," Harry said lamely, rubbing the back of his neck.

But Draco was getting up, putting on his long black coat and turning up the collar, his neat smirk lacing his pointed features. "Thank you for telling me, Harry. I'm sorry I reacted badly."

"Um, yeah, of course. Are you- are you leaving?"

"Yes."

Harry's heart sank. "But-"

"Regardless if Harry Potter got me my job or not, I really shouldn't waste this opportunity by getting fired for taking too long of a break now, hm?" He actually winked.

Harry grinned in spite of the heat of embarrassment threatening to burn his face off. Draco, to his own credit, pretended not to notice and headed towards the door.

Harry grabbed his own coat and hurried to keep up with Malfoy's long strides.


End file.
